


Magic to My Ears

by HouseAu3



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:39:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseAu3/pseuds/HouseAu3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: So what if besides the guitar, Harry also decided to try to learn the violin? And he actually turned out to be pretty damn good at it? (Or maybe he decided to try learn at an earlier age, I dunno.) None of Harry's friends know (well, perhaps Ivy does, but she's keeping mum), and he's happy to keep it that way for whatever reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic to My Ears

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dresden Files kink meme years ago. I saw it when I was organizing my files and decided to post it here.

“Wow, boss, that’s - ” Bob paused, at a loss of words, which was unusual. He always had something to say, all too often about my sex life. I never knew I could shut him up without holding a hammer in my hand.

“Beautiful?” I grinned. He hummed without answering.

“Seriously, Bob. You are making me nervous.”

I’d never thought that I would say this, but his silence was unsettling.

“You’re not as skilled as a professional, boss, but your music is… magical,” he said, orange light flickering. “Your will bleeds into your music and alters the timbre, making it unique and  _ you _ .”

“Um, can I lead an army of rats into a lake with me?”

“No, but I’m sure you can charm someone into your bed. I can suggest something sensual to you - ”

I tucked the violin under my chin and draws the bow across the strings in one fluid motion. Bob fell silence.

I chuckled, closed my eyes, and started to play Bach. I could feel Mister headbutting me before curling around my feet. Mouse lay on the ground, breathing in tandem with the music.

I hadn’t felt so peaceful for a long time.

*

It all started with Butters and the guitar. Then Lash gave me a little nudge here and there. After Lash… disappeared, my heart and fingers became in sync. I was usually a big mass of suppressed emotions. Playing music untangled my thoughts and helped me relieve stress in a less destructive way.

And I loved music the way I loved magic.

Picking up a violin was all a happy coincidence. A client came to me claiming he was cursed. He had nearly been run over by a train. His house got struck by lightning twice. He got hit by a bird while riding a roller coaster. It was all pretty normal for me, but I was nothing if not hated by Him. (And many other because of my personal brand of charm. I couldn’t blame them, really.) I looked into it, examining his house and workplace, and found that his violin was cursed.

I took care of the curse, but he couldn’t look at the violin without flashbacks of painful memory. He offered it as a bonus. I accepted it.

It was a blessing, and probably the only time He didn’t hate me, or was busy playing cards with Shiro so didn’t have the time to fuck with me. Either way I was grateful.

*

It was a quiet night. I brought some pizza and summoned Toot-Toot and his friends. They swirled around the box and each snatched a piece. Moonlight fell on their bodies and wings, enveloping them in a glow of silver. Compulsively, I took the violin out of my bag and started playing.

They all stopped to stare at me. I paused. “What?”

“Didn’t realize you play, za lord,” Toot-Toot answered, distracted. “Don’t let us stop you. It’s almost as good as pizza.”

It would have sounded weird if it hadn’t been Toot-Toot. Coming from him it was possibly the best compliment I could get.

“Which will you choose, then? Pizza or this?”

He actually looked torn. Now  _ that _ was flattering.

I chuckled. “I’m kidding. Eat your pizza. I’ll play for you.”

Music easily flowed through me. The park was silent save for the sound of the violin and the gentle breeze. The sky was clear with stars scattering around the bright pale moon. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. The smell of soil and rain was oddly soothing.

I felt something land on my head. I opened my eyes and look upward. I couldn’t see clearly since I was still a human being and had limited field of view. But I could make out two tiny feet and a slice of pizza sitting hanging from my head.

“Toot-Toot, you’re dripping oil on my hair, ” I warned without stopping the movement of my hands. The wyldfae were now flying around me like fireflies, dancing with pizza in their hand. It was funny and yet beautiful at the same time.

Toot-Toot quickly swallowed down the pizza and went back to lying on my head. I let out a chuckle and changed the tune to something lighter. Toot-Toot grabbed by hair and swayed with me, humming quietly.

A twig broke. I snapped my head up, hands coming to a halt. Thomas emerged from the bush and looked apologetically at me.

“Sorry, I’m just surprised.”

I flashed him a grin. “What can I say, I’m a man of many talents.”

“I wouldn’t say many. Your lack of fashion taste still depresses me.” He snickered, returning my grin. “But what you just did with your hand was amazing.”

It wasn’t as if Thomas hadn’t seen any good in me. He was always supportive, if sarcastic, which was probably the strongest resemblance we bore, but just like any other man on earth, he didn’t usually compliment me in such a direct fashion.

I totally didn’t blush. It was the moonlight tricking his eyes.

“Awwww, Harry. You’re so adorable.”

“Shut up, or I’ll send Toot-Toot to tear your apartment apart.”

“That’s harsh, Harry. We’ve been through so much together-”

I tried my silencing-people-with-violin technique on him. It worked magic.

*

The little girl tugged at my sleeve, looking curiously at my violin bag. I smiled at her, took the violin out, and plucked a string. She stared at the string in fascination as it vibrated. I handed the violin to her. She held it carefully as if she was carrying a baby, and plucked the strings gently.

“Lucy!”

A woman, probably her mother, walked toward the girl and took her hand. Lucy shook her head and stared at me with bright eyes, raising the violin.

I took it and tucked it under my chin, bow resting on the strings.

“This song is for you, my lady.” I winked at her. She giggled. A smile so brilliant and wide it melted my heart. I let out a breath and closed my eyes.

Bob had said that I unconsciously put a little magic in my music. The more I played the more I became aware of it. It was still natural, but now I could better feel the subtle power in the tune. I could feel a string of my will dancing to the sound. And it felt good. Amazing actually.

It was good to know that my magic could create rather than destroy.

When I opened my eyes, there was a crowd standing in front of me, everyone listening with a relaxed smile on their face. I curved my lips and was pleasantly surprised when three other buskers joined me.

There was something special about playing music together. You could feel the connection even if you were a vanilla mortal. A little gesture, a breath, an exchange through eye contact. You could convey so much while doing so little. It was the closest thing to magic normal people could experience.

I looked up and saw a familiar figure sitting on a bench, facing away. I stared at him. The usual tension of his body was gone, but the strong shoulders and the ridiculously expensive suit were distinctive enough. I almost barked out a surprised laugh when I saw him swaying slightly to the music.

He was obviously trying not to draw attention to himself, choosing a lone bench to sit on with a small fountain to block the view. It would have worked if I hadn’t been ridiculously tall and currently standing on a box. For some reason it saddened me. It shouldn’t have but it did. After all the loss and pain I’d experienced in the past few years, I could start to relate to him, albeit reluctantly. All his life he had kept himself controlled and suppressed. Being alone was the only time he could relax.

The sudden change of my mood led to an abrupt turn of the tune. The three buskers stopped and looked at me curiously, the connection broken. I stared at the back that suddenly went stiff. Marcone slowly stood up and turned to look me in the eyes, his old dollar green flickering with rare uncertainty.

I allowed myself a little smile. Just this time I played for him alone.

He let out a deep breath. I could see him bottling up his feelings and putting on his usual indifferent expression. I frowned, unwilling to lose the sight of his bare emotions. My will combined with my music weaved through the crowd and gently tapped on his forehead.

He blinked, perplexed. Seconds later he touched his own forehead, a soft sad smile creeping onto his face.

I may have cried a little with my violin.

He left as soon as I finished the song. The crowd gave me a standing ovation. I couldn’t help but feel a little lost.

That smile was… different. It was sad but full of affection. It was tired but it lit up his eyes. It was filled with contradictory emotions, but it was also the most honest and human look I’d ever seen.

He just had to be so god damned complicated, that bastard.

I talked to Bob about my magic reaching out to Marcone. He stared at me for a while.

“You groped him with your magical tentacle? Kinky. I never thought you’re into -”

I choked. “I’m not! Not everything is about sex, and definitely not this one!”

“You are no fun, boss.” If he’d had shoulders he would have shrugged. He sighed. “You know when people say things like ‘that touches my heart’ or ‘that strikes a chord in me’? Well, sometimes they are being literal.”

“So I poked him in the brains?” It sounded ridiculous when I put it that way. Bob would have laughed his ass off if he had had one.

“You offered your hand to his mind, Boss.” He was obviously grinning right now. You couldn’t tell by looking at the skull, but it was obvious in his voice. “He could either leave it or take it. If he shot you down nothing would happened except for your self-esteem getting bruised. If he took it, it would become a bridge between you and him. He could feel all the emotions you poured into your music like it was his own, and you could feel his emotions like yours. Once the music stopped, it was gone.”

So I had a non-verbal heart to heart conversation with the one and only Gentleman John Marcone. My life was so weird.

“You just mind-fucked with him!” Bob announced cheerfully. I choked and coughed. One day I would be choked to death by his words. Not a glorious way to go.

“Bob. Any joke about mind sex or Vulcan, and I never play Chaconne for you.”

“Boss -” he whined, and actually fell silent, for a while.

“So how big is his head?”

“ _ Bob! _ ”

The next day I went to my office. He was already waiting for me outside.

“Can’t pick the lock?” I grinned at him. He quirked his lips. “I would rather not get in uninvited. Although I have no magic and this was no home to you, it is still a rude gesture.”

“So what do you want?”

“I prefer talking indoors.”

I flashed him another toothy smile. “Nah, I’ll like to hear your answer first. Then I’ll decide if I’m gonna let you in or scream for help. Where’re The Tall and The Even Bigger anyway?”

“Ms. Gard and Mr. Hendricks were asked to stay in the car and leave me some privacy,” he answered smoothly, not missing a beat. “I am here to discuss what happened yesterday, Mr. Dresden. It was a rather… extraordinary experience.”

Oh. Right. Of course.

I opened the door. He held it for me and said, “After you.”

Murphy was a saint for putting up with me. How could I survive this long with this stupid chivalry?

Marcone closed the door behind him and settled in the chair in front of me. He didn’t sprawled like he had always done before. He was strangely… restless.

“Okay, talk.”

His glance fell on me. I was used to his intense focus by now. It should have been unsettling but it wasn’t, sometimes even the contrary.

“I felt something warm touch my forehead, like an offer,” he said, tilting his head. “When I answered it, the heat slowly spread and I could see something glowing blue between us. I could… feel your mind.”

“Yeah, well,” I started to answer, trying to put it in a way that would hopefully make this less awkward. “I unconsciously added magic to my music. And it offered you a chance to be connected to me for the duration of the song. It was sort of like a conversation between two mind.”

“I see.” He nodded slowly. A smile terribly similar to the one I saw yesterday decorated his face.

“Why were you afraid of me noticing you, Marcone?” I blurted out. A glimpse of surprise flash through his eyes, but it was gone in less than a second.

He didn’t answer. And to prove he was an asshole, he asked me another question instead. “Why did you change your play when you spotted me, Mister Dresden?”

“Hey, an answer for an answer. Fair trade. I’ve already given you an answer. Now it’s your turn.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but for some reason decided against it. He said in a quiet tone, “I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

I frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You looked content,” he said, affection warming up his usually cold green eyes. “Even peaceful. My presence will undoubtedly break this serenity of yours. You looked  _ happy _ , Harry.”

My mouth suddenly went dry. His honesty was almost unbearable. And the warm smile in his eyes when he looked at me was terrifyingly close to something I’d never thought I would see on him.

I saw it once, when he was looking at Amanda, his hand holding hers tightly.

“I can be happy. It’s not like I’m always angry or something... wait, don’t call me Harry.”

He let out a genuine laugh. I glared at him. He smirked a little.

“It’s different,” he simply replied. I waited for him to elaborate, but clearly that wasn’t goning to happen anytime soon. Instead, he asked, “Why changed the tune?”

“You know I can ask you one more question to get even if I answer you.”

“I have considered it.”

I could lie. He would sense it but it wasn’t like he could force me to tell him the truth. Or I could simply refuse to reply. But he had given me an honest answer when he didn’t need to, and I had no doubt it was the truth. I felt like I owned him one as well.

Or maybe I just needed an excuse. I didn’t dwell on it.

“You looked relaxed,” I said.

He arched an eyebrow and asked, “And that made you sad?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. Did I look that much of a sadist to you? You looked relaxed, but you were alone. And you tensed up again when you realized that I’d spotted you.”

“You are much more observant than people give you credit for, Mister Dresden.”

I shrugged. “I’m not gonna die for this, am I?”

He chuckled. “But you didn’t explain why my being alone saddened you.”

“You didn’t tell me why you didn’t want to break the moment for me, either,” I shot back. This was a brilliant argument. I was proud of myself.

“Okay,” he smiled softly. “I will leave you to your work now.”

He stood up and buttoned up his jacket. Then he walked toward the door and paused with a hand around the doorknob.

“Mr. Dresden.” He turned to look at me, expression serious. “Would it be too much to ask you for a song?”

I was a little taken aback, but managed to answer him in a neutral tone. “I’m not your wizard and I’m not your musician, Marcone.”

He nodded. “I expected as much.”

Before he turned away again there was a fleeting look in his eyes, a mixture of regret and relief and pain. I opened my mouth before I could even register those feelings, “but.”

He stilled, hand tightening around the doorknob.

I tried my best to sound calm.

“I’ve promised a little girl that I will go to the park to play for her from time to time. You can come listen, but don’t sit behind that fountain with your back to me like you are in a goddamn spy movie. It makes me feel like you’re stalking me, although I’m pretty sure you are.”

He turned, a small smile on his face. For the first time since I’d known him, his eyes looked… alive, just like how they used to look when he was young. 

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Good bye, John.”

I didn’t even noticed that he had called me by my first name, and that I had returned the favor without the intention to annoy him, until after he’d walked out of the door.

“Hey, Marcone!” I yelled and grabbed my violin. I knew he could hear me. The footsteps stopped. I closed my eyes and started to play what I wrote yesterday. It was short and unprofessional and maybe a little disjointed, but it was mine. I could feel Marcone’s unwavering gaze on me, less intense and much warmer than his usual stare. I knew he was watching me through the window even without opening my eyes.

Later that day a paper box was sent to my apartment. I opened it. Inside were a big pile of music scores. I called Marcone and scowled, even though he couldn’t see me. “Don’t try to buy me.”

“It costs me almost nothing, Mister Dresden. Classical sheet music can be downloaded from the Internet legally for free. I simply printed them out.”

“Oh, uh.” I swore I could hear him smirking at the other end of the line. “Stop smirking.”

“You can’t see me, Harry.”

“Don’t call me Harry. And I don’t need to see you. I can hear it.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Sorry if what I sent you shows my preference in music.”

“Don’t make any request. Don’t even imply it.”

“I’m simply stating that I have a liking for the - ”

“Not your personal musician!” I shouted and hung up on him. I knew not having the last words always annoyed him. So it was childish. So bite me.

I dug up a book of Paganini and played, mind filled with the image of him in more casual clothes, his expression relaxed and his body swaying.

The strange thing was, I didn’t mind at all.


End file.
